A Deal Before the Altar. Rachael Thomas

saw her proposition as a serious option—his back-up plan.

      ‘I can’t do that.’ She gasped the words out, her face whitening before his eyes.

      ‘Then your very first words to me were lies.’

      Part of him felt relieved. She hadn’t really been serious. But another part of him, the deal-chaser, wanted this—but on his terms. Marriage would not only secure the business but would put a stop to the endless rounds of parties. It would enhance his image in the business world, giving him what appeared to be a happy marriage, and it would mean he didn’t have to get emotionally involved. Something he avoided at all costs.

      She still hadn’t spoken so he carried on, pushing forward his conditions, turning it completely to his advantage. ‘That is the only deal I’m prepared to make.’

      * * *

      Georgina’s heart sank. Was he seriously suggesting a real marriage—one that would entail her being at his side publicly and sleeping in his bed at night?

      ‘We know nothing of each other.’ She grabbed at the first thing that came to mind.

      ‘On the contrary, Georgina. I think we both know enough.’

      The use of her name sent a warm tingle down her spine. His gaze fixed on hers so intently she felt as if he was physically holding her captive. Her pulse-rate leapt, then beat hard as she thought of spending the night in his bed, of being his wife in every sense of the word.

      She couldn’t banish the image of him with one of his model-like women hanging on his arm. Would such a man as Santos Ramirez even want to be seen publicly with her? Worse still, would he find her lacking as a lover? No, lover wasn’t the right word. Would he find her lacking as a sexual partner?

      ‘I know that the world would never be fooled into thinking we had married for any other reason than convenience.’ She clutched awkwardly at excuses as she still struggled to take in what he wanted.

      ‘And that would be because you have already been married and widowed purely for financial gain.’

      Pain lanced through her as she thought of Richard Henshaw—the man she’d married because she had been genuinely fond of him. The same man who had given her stability and security in her life for the first time ever. In that moment she hated Santos more than any other man for bringing Richard into it.

      ‘No.’ Her voice filled with entreaty. ‘Because I am nothing like the type of woman you date.’

      He raised a brow, and a slight smile teased at the corners of his lips. ‘As far as people would know I’d have become besotted with you exactly because you are not like any woman I have ever dated.’

      ‘Would you really want people to think that instead of thinking we were married in name only to keep your business?’

      ‘I have no intention of anyone ever thinking I have married for business gain only.’ He looked steadily at her. ‘Especially Carlo.’

      Georgina couldn’t take it in. Her whole plan had been turned upside down. He’d taken complete and utter control of the situation and turned it into something she just couldn’t think of doing.

      ‘How is that achievable?’

      She struggled to comprehend how Emma would ever believe she had married such a man simply because she wanted to. Not now Emma knew all about her first marriage and the reasons behind it.

      ‘You said that nobody knows you are here—is that not true?’

      ‘No, nobody,’ she replied, trying to grasp where this was leading.

      ‘Good,’ he said, and stood up, making her feel small and insignificant as he moved around his desk to stand before her once more. ‘I will host a party tomorrow evening, to which you and Emma are invited.’

      ‘How is that going to help?’ Georgina couldn’t figure out where he was going with this.

      He smiled. A lazy smile that did nothing to hide his amusement at the situation. ‘We won’t be able to leave each other alone; the attraction will be obvious to all there. Then we will spend the entire weekend together, maybe longer, after which we shall make the announcement.’

      The tone of his voice had changed, giving it a warm depth, and she had the distinct impression that if he was really attracted to her she would be unable to resist. A tingle shimmied down her spine, causing her pulse-rate to leap—which had nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with the dark and possibly dangerous man who watched her intently.

      ‘Okay,’ she said quickly, aware that her voice had become a husky whisper. She wanted to push on with her plans but hoped she could change his mind later. A real marriage surely wasn’t necessary. ‘We’ll do it your way.’

      ‘There was never any doubt about that, querida.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      GEORGINA’S ANXIETY LEVELS had risen tenfold since entering the hotel where Santos was having his impromptu party. Her sister, who was so excited, believing a party meant there was hope for her and Carlo to be married, had vanished from her side the moment they arrived. Georgina now felt conspicuous as she stood just inside the doorway of the hotel room.

      ‘Buenas noches, Ms Henshaw.’

      She looked up at Santos, her breath catching as he moved closer to her. He was immaculately dressed in a dark suit and tie, the white of his shirt enhancing his attractive tan. The smile on his lips was warm and welcoming. That same warmth reached his eyes as he took her hand. The touch of his fingers as he lightly held hers made her shiver, as if a feather had been trailed down her spine.

      Speak, she told herself firmly. Don’t let his act of attraction distract you.

      ‘Good evening, Mr Ramirez,’ she said, injecting firmness into her voice as she remembered they were not yet supposed to have met. She certainly didn’t want Emma to discover what she was about to do. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you at last.’

      He quirked a brow, and she wondered if she’d gone too far, but around her they were already drawing speculative gazes. It seemed to Georgina that the elite of London society were here—and all at his request.

      ‘Please, call me Santos,’ he said as he lifted her hand to his lips.

      Her stomach did a strange flutter as those lips brushed sensuously over the back of her hand. Stunned into silence, she was mesmerised by his dark hair as he lowered his head. The barely controlled waves of shiny black hair looked so inviting she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. Then he straightened, towering over her once more, his gaze locking with hers.

      Don’t go there, she warned herself, and tried to pull back her hand, but his fingers tightened on hers. A sexy smile spread across his lips and she dragged in a ragged breath, then swallowed hard. What was she doing, allowing this man to get to her?

      ‘The pleasure is mine.’ His words were deep and uneven. He didn’t let her hand go, instead forcing her to stay, so that she could do nothing other than stand there. She looked into the ever darkening depths of his eyes and felt a sizzle of awareness slide over her like the slow thaw of mountain snow. Shy and flustered was something she’d never felt—but, far worse, she knew she was already out of her depth. How was she ever going to get through the evening when he turned on charm like this?

      She would because she had to. She was doing this for Emma’s happiness. She clutched her bag, thinking of the few essentials she’d slipped into it, knowing she wasn’t going to be returning home that night.

      She smiled, more to herself than anyone else, determined not to let this man’s charisma knock her off balance. It was all for show, and if he could do it then so could she.

      ‘Something is amusing you?’ His fingers traced a slow, teasing circle on the palm of her